I wake up to the sound of running shower water, light and echoey in the massive suite. A gentle aroma of tea tree oil shower gel tickling my nose and making me roll between the soft, rustling sheets onto my side. I open my eyes to the large, open plan hotel room, the clear window letting in a cool morning light, the messy king bed, and the hazy memory of all the things Cole and I did to each other last night, the scenes flooding back to me in vivid detail.

More than anything else, though, it’s the tender sensitivity of my naked body, my insides still humming, vibrating on some satisfying frequency, as if still bearing the impression of his cock, that reminds me.

We’d stumbled back up to the room from the hotel bar, where we spent the last few hours of the evening eye-fucking each other while talking about the perfect way a chocolate gateau needs to crumble, the most sensuous texture for its filling to be. Using words like ‘melt’ and ‘tight’ and ‘full’ until the words seemed to lose all their original meaning, and the truth of our thoughts were only thinly veiled. Then, half-arguing over whether the garlic in puttanesca should be sliced or crushed, we left the bar. A mixture of alcohol, lust, the musical rhythm with which we talked, the liberation of being in this new place, this luxurious hotel, all finally coming to an inevitable conclusion.

He kissed me in the elevator, and I danced out of his grip when the doors opened on our floor, the low rumble of his teased pride music to my ears. It must have taken us twenty minutes to make the thirty paces to our room, Cole’s hands finding my body again and again, pulling me into kisses so good I almost achieved vertigo, until he pulled away breathlessly and said we’d better get somewhere we wouldn’t be caught by security cameras or gawked at by other guests.

Inside the massive suite he slammed the door behind him, leaving all his restraint on the other side, turning into a sex-god beast. And I let go of modesty, gave myself to the hunger of his hot mouth on my neck, the insatiable grip of his hands spreading my thighs wide open, the relentless stroking of his rock-hard cock pounding deep inside me, never having been so aware of my own body as when he made me the object of his ravenous appetite. Clawing at the rug in dizzying rapture, pressed against the window as if Cole wanted the world to see him taking me, bent over the bed gasping for breath, watching his torso in the mirror as he thrust back and forth, faster and faster, groaning as his fingers dug into my hips and he slammed into me from behind like a force of nature.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” I panted, out of my mind with the need to feel every inch of him inside me.

“Say please,” he commanded, tugging my ponytail so hard that my head tilted back to stare up at the ceiling.

“Please.”

He smacked my ass and I yelped at the sting.

“Louder,” he growled.

“Please, Cole. Please fuck me.” I couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of my mouth. I had never been like that with a guy before. And I loved it.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, he rolled me over onto my back and pushed my knees up over my head with one hand, driving himself so deep into me I yelled out loud. He didn’t let up, not for a second.

I came moments later, and then he did, so intense it was like an out of body experience, our moans sounding like they were coming from someplace far away as the earth-shattering shockwaves radiated through us.

The memories have me so hot all over again that I don’t think I can stay in this bed by myself a minute longer.

As I get up and stretch, I look over at the chair by the chest of drawers to find my clothes folded neatly. I smile. So Cole. I can imagine him picking up the clothes carefully from the floor, where they’d been discarded with all the glee of Christmas wrapping paper the night before, and carefully folding them away in that precise way of his.

The intense, lush memories of carnality give way to something else now, something warmer, more intimate than even sex. The articulate and determined way he talks about food to me, as if I were an equal rather than his employee, the way he respects my opinion, even if we disagree, arguing as if it genuinely matters to him what I think. I remember the way he opened up to me at the beach, exposing his wounds and trusting me to treat them carefully.

In this hotel room, listening to the sound of hot water against his body, I realize that he’s not just my hot boss anymore. No longer just a beautiful man with whom I share some physical connection. Irresistible lust, uncontrollable hungers, and alluring seductions might have led us so far, but now there’s more to it. Something meaningful. And I know from experience that sex isn’t that good unless there’s something deeper going on.

I pad over to the window, still naked, and admire the view, the cool blue light picking out the edges of a few clouds. The sparkling city of Las Vegas empty and asleep still, dormant and recuperating until the neon will be ignited and lead thousands of people to its lavish enchantments once again.

The nagging thought that I managed to ignore throughout yesterday and last night emerges again in the clarity of the moment. Maybe I should tell Cole about Tony and our restaurant? Maybe he’ll actually be happy for me. Maybe he’ll understand that I’ve got too many ideas of my own to cook for anybody else—except no. Every time I try to visualize the moment I tell him, I can’t imagine him smiling with happiness. His story about being betrayed by his closest friend, the way he confessed he doesn’t trust anybody, the fact that I was the first chef he allowed Martin to hire for him…I can only imagine that face going as hard and as cold as it did when he pulled me out of the kitchen the first time we met.

Besides, I’m sure the new place isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, no matter how enthusiastic and optimistic Tony is about it. Nobody gets to just start their own restaurant based on a single investor’s meeting with some random guys they know nothing about. There’s no reason to stir things up just yet. I have a little more time to enjoy this thing with Cole, whatever this is.

I move through the suite to the bathroom, find the door ajar, and push it aside. Cole’s shadow plays behind the frosted glass like a kabuki show. Even in the hazy shadow the broadness of his arms as he scrubs his hair can be seen, the sculpted ‘V’ of his torso impossibly mouthwatering.

Now that I’m this close I can hear him hum, out of tune, some Rolling Stones song that I can’t quite remember, but he does it with such conviction I can’t help finding it funny. I lean up against the doorway and enjoy the show a little, until he pulls off what I think is meant to be a dance move and my quick giggle gives me away.

“Hey!” he says in surprise, sliding the shower door aside and looking at me through the steam. “How long you been standing there?”

“Long enough to know never to go to karaoke with you.”

“Is that so?” Cole flicks water from his eyes and reaches out, pulling me by the hand under the hot stream. I shriek playfully and find myself pressed up against him, the water rolling down our faces as I look up at him.

“Maybe we could duet,” I grin.

“I’m counting on it.”

“I’ll bet you are.”

Our wet lips crash together, as fluid as the water. His body hot and pumped against my sleep-cooled blood. We press our skin together, like two slow dancers in the hot rain, until I feel his desire rise, pressing between my thighs.

“Waiting for you to wake up has been the hardest part of my day so far,” he murmurs into my ear.

“Well this has been the hardest part of mine,” I whisper back, wrapping my hand around his cock, my insides turning hot and liquid as he groans in my ear.

“Turn around and put your hands on the wall,” he commands. “It’s about to get a lot harder.”

When I arrive back in front of my apartment in L.A., in the middle of the night, even the small carry-on bag I took with me feels like it’s full of bricks. I don’t know whether it was the workload, the late flight (we missed the early one, in a post-coital slumber so deep we slept through both of our alarms), or the fact that we must have worked through half the kama sutra, but I’m shattered when I mount the steps and push open the door to my apartment.

I hear Asha’s thumping feet before I’ve even shut the door.

“Oooh!” she says, emerging from her room in a bathrobe to hug me tightly before pulling back. “Girl, I missed you!”

“I’ve only been gone for two days.”

“Sure, but I had a craving for pecan pie last night that drove me crazy.”

I stop while Asha steps back and studies me carefully from head to toe, meeting my gaze again with a raised eyebrow.

“Mm-hm,” she says as if confirming something.

“What?” I say, looking down at my jeans and T-shirt.

“Girl, you look like you’ve been fucked, fed, and flexed.”

I laugh a little tiredly.

“What?”

“I was gonna ask if it was a good time—but I can see by your face that it was. That little rosy color in your cheeks, that little sass you have now when you stand. You look about five years younger—and I know that’s not what a work trip is supposed to do.”

“Um…yeah,” I say, shrugging with a little embarrassment, a little blush at being reminded of the ‘work trip.’ “I guess you’re right.”

Asha laughs eagerly and takes my bag while I move into the living room and let my tired body fall onto a seat.

“Thanks,” I say, as Asha returns from the kitchen and hands me a bottle of water, almost licking her lips with anticipation before sitting on the couch, directing her entire body in my direction, unwilling to miss a word.

“So?” she says. “Go on. How was it?”

I take a deep sip of water and look up at the wall as I try to find the words, a decent point to start at.

“It was…fantastic.”

“Oooh!” Asha squeals, tucking her feet up under her and leaning toward me even more eagerly.

“I mean, it’s hard to believe that it was only two days. It feels like we’ve just spent a month together. I…it was just…really great.”

“Wow…” Asha says, smiling warmly.

“I mean the restaurant is amazing, the food he’s planning is incredible, and it was really awesome helping him decide on—”

“Pfft! I don’t wanna hear about the work! I wanna hear about you two! Did you…”

“Yeah, we did,” I say after a little pause. “In the hotel suite, on the floor, in the shower.” Asha’s eyes widen. “In the back of the new space, the public bathroom of this classy bar…”

“Whoa,” Asha says, fanning herself a little. “Did you even get a chance to talk?”

“Oh yeah. We talked about everything. Food, ourselves, what we want out of life…”

Well, I mostly told Cole what I wanted out of life—leaving out a few key details when I mentioned my ‘future’ dream restaurant. I trail off into silence and start chewing my lower lip as the nagging reminder of Tony’s recent hustling and our maybe-possibly-but-probably-not-about-to-happen restaurant comes flashing into my brain. There’s no way it’s going to happen. Not this soon. But if it did, and I kept it from Cole this whole time…no. I can’t afford to think that way. The chances of it all coming together so fast are basically nil.

Asha shakes her head and smiles as she throws herself back on the couch.

“What a whirlwind. That sounds so romantic.”

“It was. Kinda,” I say, staring into the distance as I recall all those conversations again, tapping into what I actually feel as if I’m in confession. “He’s different than what I thought. I mean he’s exactly like you’d suspect: Confident, meticulous, kinda stubborn, but…there’s more to him. He can be really sweet. Like at lunch today, he switched our desserts because I tried his and liked it more. And I noticed that whenever I would talk about food his eyes would linger on me for a second before he spoke—as if he was really, genuinely thinking about what I’d said. Most guys just glaze over when I start talking about food. I mean I know Cole’s a chef too, but it’s really nice to have someone just…get it.”

When I finish talking I turn to Asha and see that she’s got a knowing grin on her face.

“What?” I say.

“You’re falling for him. Hard.”

“No!”

“You are, Willow. I’m not blind. You sound a high-schooler talking about the MVP of the basketball team.”

I look down, unable to really deny it.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Pretty much,” Asha smiles.

After a little silence I take a long drink of water and sigh deeply.

“I’m just on a high from the trip, it’ll probably pass as soon as I’m back at work—real work.”

Asha frowns and sits up. “Why are you so intent on not having fun?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re seeing a guy who’s incredibly hot, rich, and—according to you—pretty charismatic, not to mention fantastic in bed, but you act like you wish you were single again.”

“It’s not that…I just don’t want to delude myself. I’ve been burned before—not just by men, but by being optimistic, expecting things to work out, hoping for the best. I don’t want to let my emotions out and suddenly find them being trampled on. This could be nothing, you know? Just fooling around. I don’t want to go thinking that it means something when I don’t know if it actually does.”

Asha sighs, and I can’t tell if she’s feeling pitiful or unconvinced.

“The guy just took you on a two day trip to a fancy hotel in Vegas so that you could help him with his new business and screw you silly. And before that he took you to a private beach spot and opened up about his deep, dark past. He’s giving you everything he’s got. What more of a sign do you want, girl? Are you still gonna be calling it ‘nothing’ when he proposes?”

I laugh nervously, half imagining Cole on one knee before quickly pushing the image away. “Everybody and their grandma knows Cole Chambers likes sex—and like I said, he spent a hell of a time getting it while we were away. Maybe that’s all he wanted? Maybe that’s all I am to him? A business trip where he can get a decent second opinion while getting his rocks off at the same time.”

Asha’s expression is dismissive now, and I can tell she’s losing patience, though she’s sweet enough to keep trying.

“Quit asking what you are to him and ask yourself what he is to you. Didn’t you ask him at any point how he felt? About what exactly you two had between you?”

I shrug, feeling naïve as I do so.

“It seems kind of quick to be asking. Do people really do that?”

“I do,” Asha says, swinging her head as she says it, and emphasizing the words in an almost musical way. “See: Men love it when you don’t know where you stand. Especially men like Cole Chambers. They’re like predators. It’s all good when they’re hunting you down, got you in their sights, doing everything they damned well can to get your panties off, but once they finally do, they don’t know when to stop playing and decide to commit.”

Asha gets up and nods for me to follow as she moves to her bedroom.

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” I say, as she starts moving around the room. I notice the dress laid out nicely on the bed, the handbag emptied on the dresser.

“Of course it’s that simple,” Asha says as she peels off the bathrobe to reveal her underwear, and checks her body in the mirror before pulling her braids back to clip them. “You know, Cole might be waiting for some sign from you that this is more than just sex.”

“I doubt it,” I say, as I sit on the edge of her bed. “Cole doesn’t wait for anything, pretty much.”

“Well you need to ask him outright what’s going on, what he wants, and make damned sure he’s on the same page as you.”

“You make it sound so easy…hey, where are you going?”

Asha smiles as she peels her dress from the bed and holds it out in front of her.

“I don’t just talk a good game,” she says, winking. “I’ve got a date with a heart surgeon who’s been turning up to my classes for a couple of months now, chatting me up after class—although he’s already got the body of a middle-weight.” Asha pauses to delicately zip up her dress and check herself in the mirror again. “I’ve spent the whole week driving him crazy with sexy pictures, and I figured it’s about time both of us got what we wanted.”

“Lucky guy.”

“If he plays his cards right. What do you think of this perfume?”

I watch (and occasionally help) Asha get herself ready, enjoying the sight of her confident, well-practiced routine. In a funny kind of way, nothing has felt more ‘L.A.’ than what Asha’s getting herself into; two confident people who know what they want, going for it no holds barred, and no doubt getting it. It’s a long way from my teenage experiences, wearing my lucky pair of faded jeans to go out with guys in shirts that were crisp from underuse. Sipping sodas at a diner where the truck drivers and farmers would grab quick lunches. Maybe parking at that spot in the woods to fool around clumsily. Maybe she’s got the right idea. Maybe it is that easy to just put yourself out there.

“Listen, honey,” Asha says when she’s finished dressing, putting her hands on my shoulders so that she can look me in the eye sincerely. “I know it’s cheesy but you’ve got to follow your heart. Your head will stop you from doing anything, and your body will make you do things you regret—but your heart will always lead you to happiness—even if the path there is a little bumpy.”

I smile, suddenly feeling a warmth in my chest and a little flicker in my eyes.

“I’m a chef. I know how good a little cheese can be. Thanks, Asha.”

She pats my cheek gently, grabs her bag from the bed, then walks out of the apartment with an elegance and speed that’s incredible for the height of her heels.

I go to my room to get ready for bed, head still spinning from everything.

Maybe Asha’s right, maybe I should forget the things that keep walling off my feelings. Maybe I should forget Cole’s reputation, the fact that he’s my boss, the unlikely possibility that I may have to tell him I might be leaving soon to start my own restaurant. Maybe I should quit telling myself that the sex between us is just too good to pass up, that it’s only his body making me go weak, that it’s just lust and desire drawing me back to him again and again.

Maybe I should let go of the way Nick used and hurt me, release the restricting chains of the past that keep me from dipping more than a toe in the future.

Maybe I should just admit it: I’m falling in love with Cole.